Total pages in book: 84
Estimated words: 82132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 82132 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 411(@200wpm)___ 329(@250wpm)___ 274(@300wpm)
Me: Pondering life’s deepest questions involving dishes. You?
Gabrielle: Wondering why I haven’t seen my sexy neighbor all day.
I grin.
Me: Ask and you shall receive.
Gabrielle: It’s a beautiful night. Want to come over and porch-swing with me?
Me: I’m on my way.
I pour two glasses of tea and head across the lawn.
The moon is muted as it hangs overhead surrounded by a million silver stars. Frogs croak from the creek behind our homes as I take the steps up and onto the back deck.
Gabrielle waits for me, swaying back and forth in the warm night breeze.
“There you are,” she says, smiling from ear to ear.
I press a quick kiss against her lips and take a seat next to her, handing her a glass. “How was your day?”
“You brought me tea?” She faux pouts and it’s adorable. “You’re so damn sweet.”
“Keep your voice down. Damn. You’re going to ruin my reputation.”
She laughs, bumping me with her shoulder. “Thank you.”
“It’s my pleasure. So, your day?”
“It was good. I worked. Had lunch with Della. Went to the grocery store. What about you?”
I slide my arm across the back of the swing and usher her closer to me. “My day was fine. We got a lot of framing done for the new walls on the addition we’re building. Although I had to stay late and talk to the homeowner about a change he wants to make. I need to price all of that out this weekend and get back to him.”
“Need help?”
I grin. “You’re going to help me with an estimate?”
“If you need help, I will.” She blushes. “What? Don’t look at me like that.”
“Like what?”
“Like . . .” She shrugs, her cheeks rosy. “I don’t know. Like I’m goofy or something.”
I smile at her. “You are many things, Gabrielle Solomon. But goofy isn’t one of them.”
Her shoulders soften and she leans against me. My heart swells as I kiss the side of her head.
“Are the boys in bed?” I ask.
“Yes. Why?”
“I just realized I’ve kissed you twice tonight.”
She nods slowly. “Can we talk about that?”
“Sure.”
I hold my breath as she sits up and slides away from me. She tucks a strand of hair behind her ear, bringing one knee up and twisting to face me.
Her eyes are wary as she nibbles on her bottom lip. I have no idea what she’s going to say—and it could go either way. And the uncertainty turns my stomach into a knot.
“I’m not trying to put anything on a fast-track,” she says. “So I don’t want you to think I’m trying to put the pedal to the metal, because I’m not.”
“Okay.”
She sighs, tension written across her pretty face. “I know I said I wanted to keep things away from the kids—and I do. I don’t want to start kissing you in front of them or making them feel uncomfortable.”
“Neither do I, Gabrielle.”
“But I . . .” Her grin becomes shy. “I’m going to be honest with you. I hope this thing between us doesn’t stop.”
Thank God. I take her hand in mine and squeeze it.
“This is the part where you say you agree,” she says, her voice wobbly.
I laugh.
“Jay.”
I laugh harder.
“Forget it,” she says, trying to take her hand from mine. “I don’t even agree with myself right now.”
“Stop it.”
She huffs with a heavy dose of hesitation in her eyes.
“I didn’t think it needed to be said, but no, I hope this thing between us doesn’t stop either, Gabrielle.”
She grins. “Okay. Good. Then what I was going to say, if you would’ve just cooperated from the beginning, is that if we’re planning on keeping this up, then maybe we start easing the boys into the idea of us. What do you think?”
“I think this is absolutely your call.”
“So you would be okay with it? Because I don’t know what that looks like, and I don’t know how they’ll take it—specifically Dylan. It could get ugly.”
“Yeah, it could. And you have to be ready for that.”
“I am ready for that. I’m happier than I’ve been in a long time, and I don’t want to hide it from everyone. I don’t want to go to lunch with you at Betty Lou’s and fear that it’ll get back to the boys. Sneaking into your house in the middle of the night has been fun . . .”
We exchange a knowing smile.
“But I want to be able to come over in the evening,” she says. “And I want you to be able to come over without walking on eggshells during daylight hours too. Like a normal couple.”
Gabrielle has no idea what her words mean, and it’s a whole lot more than what meets the eye. She’s offering a reality I never thought was possible. She’s proposing a life I decided long ago wasn’t an option.
She’s suggesting that I’m the man she wants included in her children’s lives. That she believes I’ll care for them as much as I’ll care for her.